


Hot Spot

by Aurum18



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Beaches, Day At The Beach, England (Country), Hot, Stackson if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 08:31:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15457368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurum18/pseuds/Aurum18
Summary: Stiles has found Jackson in England and regrets his decision.(or it's too hot for Stiles to function and Jackson is irritatingly not hot)(or a little short drabbly oneshotty thing I wrote whilst overheating on a beach)





	Hot Spot

When Stiles had volunteered to retrieve Jackson in England, he had been under the impression that it was at least moderately freezing and very rainy. 

Stiles now could verify that the stereotype was very much a lie as he lay sprawled on the burning hot sand of a beach not 50 miles from London.

His feet were burning.  _ Burning _ . He literally could not move his pale skinny legs in fear of like third degree burns. Not cool. So very much not cool. 

Stiles glared at a passing seagull who was eyeing him up with mean, greedy eyes. There were some baby ones who were quite cute, waddling about with open beaks, hungry or quite possibly thirsty as it was really, freaking, damn hot. 

‘Stiles’ snapped Jackson irately from a sun lounger next to him. 

‘What?’ moaned Stiles, feeling irritated but also like a limp noodly puddle of melted human that could not be bothered to move. 

‘I can literally hear you thinking.’ 

Stiles pulled a face at him. What the hell was he supposed to do about that? He was busy slowly melting into a little gooey puddle of Stiles. 

‘Shut up Stilinski’ Jackson glared at him. 

‘Wha-’ whined Stiles. ‘I didn't say nooothing’

‘You're such a weak ass, Stilinski’ Jackson growled from the height of his sun-lounger. ‘You can't even handle a little heat’

‘ _ LITTLE! ‘  _ Stiles shrieked, abandoning his puddlely fate to angrily flop a hand in the air. ‘You call this  _ a LITTLE BIT OF HEAT??!!  _ THIS IS A MUCH BIT OF HEAT. Like loads of heat. Like furnace levels. Like I'm half expecting  _ fusion  _ to occur ‘cos it's so freaking hot!!’

Jackson rolled his eyes and adjusted his tanning mirror so it was reflecting the sun onto his perfectly formed, not even sweating, body more accurately. 

‘England was supposed to be cold, Jackson. COLD!!’

‘Shut up, Stilinski’

‘URGGHH’

‘Well, this is the hottest day of the year and possibly since the 1960s’ Jackson smirked and Stiles cursed his stupid heat-resistant werewolf (previously kanima) body that was meaning that the jock wasn't overheating even slightly whilst Stiles… He was not starting the puddle train of thought again. 

‘Asshole’ Stiles told him. 

‘Just because my body's superior to yours’

‘HE'S STILL HOT’ some random person yelled then ran off (which meant they were probably a supernatural creature of some sort as no normal human being could possibly  _ run _ in this heat).

After a pause in which Stiles debated whether the random supernatural person was mocking him or not, Stiles muttered ‘Asshole. ‘

‘Anyways,’ said Jackson, seeming quite cheerful now (Stiles mistrusted this). ‘Why did you come to England again? ‘

‘To find you, and escape the blistering heat of California which now seems like the  _ ice age  _ compared to this’

Jackson laughed and Stiles gave him some murder eyes from his sweaty position flopped on a sandy beach towel. 

‘Why did you need to find me?’ 

‘Oh’ sighed Stiles, flopping his hand about. ‘There was some monster thing, nothing particularly exciting, same old, same old except it kind of says you're it's brother? ‘

‘What. ‘ Jackson says bluntly, pushing his sunglasses down. 

Stiles shrugged, or tried to at least in his puddle of sweat. 

‘Why are we on a beach then’ Jackson snapped. 

‘Hey! It was your idea’ Stiles protested. 

‘When's the next flight? ‘


End file.
